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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27663860">Friendship Is Freshly-Lathered Hair</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/darrinya/pseuds/darrinya'>darrinya</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>College AU, Fluff, Hair Washing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nonbinary Sleep | Remy Sanders, cursing, remy gets a little drunk but it's all off screen, touch starvation</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 06:03:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,721</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27663860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/darrinya/pseuds/darrinya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roman never takes a break. Remy has other ideas.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders &amp; Sleep | Remy Sanders, background Sleep | Remy Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Friendship Is Freshly-Lathered Hair</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/WillowAudreyKeyes/gifts">WillowAudreyKeyes</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Roman's back hurts.</p><p>Technically, Roman’s entire body hurts, but if he starts to think about that, then he’ll start to think about everything else wrong with his life. Like the fact that his head feels like someone took a sledgehammer to it. Or the fact that his hands won’t stop shaking. Or the fact that he hasn’t eaten since breakfast, and it’s now seven o’clock. Or the fact that--</p><p>“Shut <em>up,</em> brain!” Roman wails, burying his face in his arms.</p><p>The words in his textbook don’t make sense anymore. The letters might as well be blocky black ants, marching across a field of snow.</p><p>He has to keep studying. He has a test tomorrow morning, and he might as well go in blind if he stops studying now.</p><p>It’s not fair. Roman doesn’t give a damn about <em>any </em>of these worthless facts about biology. They have <em>nothing </em>to do with his degree.</p><p>He can’t fail this test. He already has a C in Bio--any lower, and Roman could flunk.</p><p>The dorm door bangs open, and Roman winces.</p><p>“I’m trying to study!” he snaps before he thinks it through.</p><p>Remy stands in the doorway, teetering back and forth in a pair of high heels Roman is positive they didn’t have before they left.</p><p>“Babe!” Remy cries, flinging their arms wide. “I’ve missed you <em>so much!</em> You have <em>no idea</em> how sad it was without you.”</p><p>“Are you . . . drunk?” Roman asks.</p><p>Remy kicks their heels off and flops on their bed, every movement like liquid.</p><p>“Are you slut shaming me?” they demand.</p><p>Roman rubs his eyes. “No?” he says uncertainly.</p><p>“Girl, you’re doing it wrong,” Remy says with a sigh. “You clearly <em>are,</em> and <em>I--”</em>  They start to giggle. “--am <em>not</em> drunk. I’m just <em>fun.”</em></p><p>“Go be fun somewhere else,” Roman snaps.</p><p>“O. M. <em>G.” </em>Remy looks at Roman over their sunglasses with disbelief. “Babe, you better watch yourself. You sound <em>just</em> like Lo-Lo, right now, which is to say <em>boring</em> and <em>pissed </em>and<em> responsible.”</em></p><p>Roman presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. He’s not going to cry. He’s not going to cry. He just needs to go over the main definitions a few more times, and he’ll be ready for tomorrow. He’ll be fine.</p><p>Remy drapes themselves over Roman’s shoulders, and he freezes.</p><p>“You okay?” Remy asks, their mouth practically hitting Roman’s ear. “You look like <em>trash.”</em></p><p>“I look like a Greek god,” Roman says. “Now please, <em>leave--”</em></p><p>“Talk science to me,” Remy purrs.</p><p>“You have a boyfriend,” Roman snaps. “And I’m not into you.”</p><p><em>“Everyone </em>is into me,” Remy says.<em> “I’m</em> into me.”</p><p>“WOULD YOU PLEASE JUST <em>GO AWAY!” </em>Roman yells.</p><p>Remy pulls away, their eyebrow raising. They look Roman up and down before shrugging and spinning on their heels. </p><p>Roman shakily pulls out another flashcard.</p><p>.</p><p>A <em>thunk</em> startles Roman from his hazy stupor. Remy stands next to him, slurping on an iced coffee. Roman stares at the carry-out bag on his desk.</p><p>“You got me food?” Roman asks, his voice cracking.</p><p>“God knows you need it,” Remy says with a snort. “You look like you’re about to fall over.”</p><p>“I don’t have time--”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up and eat your sandwich, you whore.”</p><p>Roman winces and does as commanded. Remy finishes their coffee, then stares at their empty cup with a dejected air.</p><p>“No coffee for me?” Roman asks around a mouthful of bread and cheese and meat.</p><p>“Believe me, babe, the last thing you need is caffeine,” Remy says, throwing their cup into the trash. “You’re already wired as it is.”</p><p>“Fiend,” Roman mutters under his breath.</p><p>“Most people prefer less ladylike terms, but I <em>like</em> this one,” Remy says, dragging their chair over to Roman’s desk. They sit next to Roman and rest their head on Roman’s arm. “You done yet?”</p><p>Roman stares down at his sandwich, suddenly lacking all appetite. He sets the sandwich down and picks his pen up again, his hands trembling.</p><p><em>“What </em>do you think you’re doing?” Remy demands.</p><p>“I have to keep studying,” Roman says.</p><p>“Babe--”</p><p>“I’m not like you, okay?” Roman snarls. “I can’t just--just <em>waltz</em> in the day of and cheat off of my Einstein boyfriend! I have to do it by myself, and I already have a C, and--”</p><p>“I don’t cheat,” Remy says, offense coloring their tone. “Literally <em>or</em> metaphorically.”</p><p>“I’m gonna fail,” Roman says. “I’m gonna flunk this test and then fail out of the class, and then I’ll--”</p><p>Remy squishes Roman’s cheeks. “Roman,” they say,<em> “stop.”</em></p><p>“I can’t remember any of it!” Roman says, aware of how his voice is rising to hysterical heights but unable to bring it down. “I’ve been studying all day, and I can’t--”</p><p>“Abiogenesis Theory,” Remy says, leaning back in their chair. “Go.”</p><p>“I <em>don’t know!”</em> Roman all but screams. His face feels flushed, and he’s trying so hard not to cry. “I can’t remember <em>anything--”</em></p><p>Remy snaps their fingers in front of Roman’s face.</p><p>“Girl,” they say calmly, “yes, you do. You’re just panicking and thinking, <em>I don’t know,</em> over and over until it comes true. Now tell me about Abiogenesis Theory.”</p><p>Roman rubs his eyes, his breath coming in short gasps.</p><p>“I--” Roman’s right hand starts to knock against the desk frantically, and Remy just waits, their legs splayed out in front of them. “It has to do with evolution, right? Inorganic molecules become . . . organic?”</p><p>“Bingo, babe,” Remy says. “Now for fuck’s sake, go to bed.”</p><p>“My head hurts too much,” Roman says. It wasn’t a whimper. It <em>wasn’t.</em></p><p>Remy hesitates, their head tilting to the side. Not for the first time, Roman wonders why they never take off their sunglasses.</p><p>“Come on,” Remy says, grabbing Roman’s hand and dragging him to his feet. Remy sways slightly, and Roman catches them before they get too off-balance. “Grab your shampoo and conditioner, babe. I’ll get the towels.”</p><p>Roman recoils. “I am <em>not</em> showering with you!”</p><p>“Good! Lo-Lo would probably be <em>so</em> jealous if you did. He’s possessive like that--not that I mind. It’s kinda sexy.” Remy flings a towel over their shoulder and poses dramatically. “Follow me, loser. We’re going hair-washing.”</p><p>Maybe Roman is drunk, too. For whatever reason, he grabs his shampoo and conditioner and follows Remy to the restroom.</p><p>.</p><p>Remy tries to drag the chair out of one of the shower stalls but keeps knocking it over on the ground before dissolving into giggles.</p><p>“That’s for handicapped people,” Roman says.</p><p>“Shut <em>up, </em>watered-down Hugh Jackman,” Remy whines. “There are, like, <em>three</em> chairs, and no one is showering right now. Help me pull this over to the sink.”</p><p>“I know you’re trying to insult me,” Roman says, hoisting the chair up and carrying it over to the sink, “but it was honestly the nicest thing you’ve ever called me.”</p><p>“Please, bitch, I call you cute nicknames <em>all the time,”</em> Remy huffs.</p><p>Remy gestures for Roman to sit in the chair. Roman sighs and sits, and then Remy wraps a towel around his neck.</p><p>“Tilt your head back,” Remy says.</p><p>“Why are you doing this?” Roman asks.</p><p>Remy starts to run the water, humming a weird tune Roman has never heard before.</p><p>“Too cold?” Remy asks.</p><p>“It’s fine,” Roman says uncertainly.</p><p>Remy runs the water over Roman’s hair, and Roman can’t suppress a tiny gasp as Remy combs their fingers through his hair. Remy squeezes a tiny dollop of shampoo in their hand, then rubs their hands together. They start to lather Roman’s hair, massaging little circles into Roman’s scalp.</p><p>Roman whimpers, hating himself for leaning into Remy’s touch.</p><p>Remy rinses the shampoo from Roman’s hair, and Roman’s hands begin to shake. It’s just so . . . warm. And gentle. And everything Roman has been lacking ever since this hellhole of a semester began.</p><p>Remy squeezes more shampoo into their hands and starts a fresh lather. Their fingers scrub against the tips of Roman’s hairline and work to the rest of Roman’s scalp, leaving tingles wherever they go. Roman’s eyes begin to burn, and he inhales shakily as Remy rinses his hair off once more.</p><p>“Why do you care?” Roman asks. His voice isn’t trembling in the slightest.</p><p>
  <em>(Shut up, Janus.)</em>
</p><p>Remy rubs some conditioner into Roman’s hair, still humming.</p><p>“Because, girl, you may be a queen, but you are an absolute <em>disaster</em> at self-care,” Remy says. </p><p>They pick up a wide-toothed comb and gently rake it through Roman’s hair, and Roman’s eyes start to overflow with tears. What is <em>wrong</em> with him? Why is he crying? This shouldn’t be making him cry. </p><p>“I mean, have you <em>seen</em> your dye job? The purple is fading, and let me tell you, babe, it does <em>not</em> look good. Maintain it or go back to brown.”</p><p>Remy rinses Roman’s hair off one more time, their fingers coaxing Roman’s hair back under the water. They shut off the water and whip out the second towel, gently massaging Roman’s scalp once more. </p><p>At this point, Roman has given up holding back tears.</p><p>.</p><p>They end up in Remy’s bed, Roman’s face buried in Remy’s chest and his shoulders shaking.</p><p>“You got this test in the bag,” Remy says, ruffling Roman’s hair. Roman shivers.</p><p>“Will Logan get mad about this?” Roman mumbles into Remy’s shirt.</p><p>Remy pauses. Roman can hear Remy’s breath stuttering in their chest.</p><p>“I think Lo-Lo is gonna break up with me,” Remy whispers.</p><p><em>“Why?” </em>Roman demands.</p><p>“He doesn’t like it when I get drunk,” Remy mumbles.</p><p>Roman says, “I’m not too fond of it, either.”</p><p>Remy laughs, this pained, wet sound, as they bury their face into Roman’s hair.</p><p>“Whatever, bitch,” Remy says. “You’re an obnoxious friend, you know that?”</p><p>“We’re friends?” Roman asks, surprise swelling inside of him.</p><p>Remy snorts. “I sure hope so. I don’t wash just <em>any</em> bitch's hair.”</p><p>Roman can’t think of anything to say for the longest time. Remy is hard to read sometimes. They spout insults and sneer at Roman every chance they get, but they also bring Roman food and remind him to leave his room when Roman has stayed inside writing alone for too long. Roman didn’t know that counted as <em>friendship</em> before--he always thought Remy just felt sorry for him or that Logan was putting them up to it.</p><p>Finally, Roman whispers, “Logan’ll forgive you.”</p><p>But Remy has already fallen asleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Self-care, babes! &lt;3</p><p>Leave a comment or come chat with me on tumblr: darrinya.tumblr.com</p></blockquote></div></div>
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